


the stain on the carpet

by ConvenientAlias



Category: The Servant (1963)
Genre: Domestic, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 06:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18543781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: When Barrett gets back to Tony after showing the night’s guests out, Tony’s upset his glass and the ale’s spilled all over the floor."Are you testing me?"





	the stain on the carpet

When Barrett gets back to Tony after showing the night’s guests out, Tony’s upset his glass and the ale’s spilled all over the floor. The dark brown is seeping into the carpet. It isn’t the first drink that’s been spilled tonight. Nevertheless, Barrett thinks it’s a little amazing how you can’t leave Tony alone for more than a minute. Amazing, a little amusing. He crosses his arms and raises his voice. “Are you testing me?”

Tony looks up, bleary eyes widening in guilt. Guilt, not comprehension. He’s been drunk as a skunk for the past three hours at least, and tipsy for long before then. He probably hasn’t even realized he’s dropped the glass—apart from the fact that he can’t drink it because it’s not in his hand anymore. He’s just reacting to Barrett’s tone.

“’m sorry, Barrett. What…”

Barrett pulls Tony out of the chair he’s settled in, pulls him to the ground. Points out the stain on the carpet, the ale seeping deeper and deeper into the carpet’s threads. “You think I don’t have enough work around the place, is that it? You have to make more for me?”

Now Tony really does understand what he’s done, made more work for Barrett, the sin that he’s always, constantly committing, and nevertheless always regrets. He stares morosely at the carpet and repeats how sorry he is. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it, Barrett, honest.”

“Yes, yes, you never mean to do anything. That’s what’s the matter with you. You never mean anything.”

He presses Tony’s hand down on the stain. The carpet is damp and cool and a little sticky; Tony’s hand is warm and while the palm would be sweaty, the back is dry. The carpet is textured with little knobs of yarn; Tony’s skin is smooth in a way that Barrett has always known to be the meaning of aristocracy. It’s something that’s always attracted and repulsed him at the same time, the smoothness of hands like Tony’s.

When he pulls his hand away, Tony’s hand lingers regretfully. “I’m terribly sorry.”

“It’s hard enough cleaning up after these parties in the first place.”

“You know,” Tony says. He pauses.

“Yes, sir?”

“You… maybe… we don’t have to have all these parties. I know they’re a lot of work.” Tony looks at him anxiously.

Must think he’s very clever, having come up with a way to tell Barrett he doesn’t like the parties without saying it right out. In fact, he drops little hints like this once a week, maybe. But then he enjoys himself at the parties right enough, doesn’t he? Yes, they have lots of fun. Anyways he’s the master of the house, if he could get his act together. If he wants Barrett to stop, he’ll have to tell him. He’ll have to make him.

Barrett brings him back to the point. “Well, this mess isn’t part of the party, is it, sir? That’s one you made all on your own just to test my patience. As if I don’t have enough to do.”

“Really I didn’t mean it, Barrett. I’m sorry.”

“Well if you’re so sorry,” Barrett says, “clean it up yourself.”

He fetches a wet rag from the kitchen and hands it to Tony. Tony looks at it with a wrinkled brow. Barrett pats him on the shoulder and heads back to the kitchen to get to his own work.

A party really does leave a mess. This one has left in its wake a score of dirty dishes and glasses, a lot of food that has to be put away, and Vera.

“Thought I told you to leave.”

Vera smiles at him confidently. She was nervous at first, the first couple of times he invited her back, but now, after he’s agreed to lend her some money and after they’ve hooked up again a few times, she thinks she runs the place. “Well, I can stay a little longer, can’t I? Tony won’t mind if I stay the night.”

“He’s not Tony to you, not when the party’s over—show some respect. If you want to move in here, you can be a maid again, and do a lot better job than you did last time. I need some actual help.”

He’s considered interviewing girls for the position of housemaid, finding someone new. Someone efficient and orderly so he can stop running around all the time, someone to keep him company when he gets bored of Tony or annoyed at him. But, he thinks, housemaids can be underfoot a lot, can’t they? Even when they don’t live in. A housemaid would take liberties in the running of the house if she was any good at all, and if she was attractive enough for Barrett to like, she’d be distracting to Tony, too. Much as Barrett enjoyed watching Vera play games with Tony, he’s not sure he could put up with it in the long term… and another girl might not be as easily handled.

Vera’s fine, he likes her a lot. But she’s wishy-washy. Maybe he’ll take her on again—technically it will be Tony taking her on again—on a trial basis. He’s thinking it over.

But anyways, it’s him, not Vera, who actually does run the place. “Well? Out with you.”

She leans forward to kiss him, but he brushes her off. He’s had enough of that for tonight already, and there’s more where it comes from when he wants it. “See you on Friday,” he relents, as he shows her out the door, and he does allow her one brief kiss but he closes the door briskly behind her.

He tidies up in the kitchen and wends his way back to the parlor. Tony is holding the wet rag against the carpet, unmoving. The expression on his face is one of utter despair.

Barrett tuts. “Well, you could have done worse. At least you aren’t rubbing at it. But that isn’t getting you anywhere, is it?”

“’m sorry. I don’t know how.”

“Because you’re a spoiled little rich boy.” But Barrett’s in a good mood. He helps Tony up off the floor, hauls him upright and holds him against his body. “That’s all right. I’ve got it handled. I’m not really mad at you, am I? You can tell I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re really not mad at me?”

“No.” Barrett rubs his back in circles. He smells like sweat and alcohol and too much cologne, and Barrett doesn’t mind. He picked out the cologne anyway, and the ale; Tony hasn’t been shopping in quite a while.

Tony sighs happily. Though he remains contrite. “I’m sorry I can’t help more around the house.”

“Oh, that’s all right, sir. As long as I’m appreciated. But we all have our roles to play.” He kisses Tony’s cheek. He really does smell, but in the morning Barrett will help him wash up—that’s one of the duties he’s assigned himself these days, Tony being as disorderly as he is—and for now, he can put up with it. “Now… you should probably be going to bed.”

He helps Tony to his room and into bed. In bed, Tony clutches at Barrett’s sleeve, but Barrett pulls away.

There’s still work to do.

He turns the light off and heads back to the parlor. Cleans up spare glasses and ashtrays. A couple misplaced belongings go in the trash—he has no time to hunt down their owners, and they’re too tawdry to keep. And then there’s the stain in the carpet. He mixes vinegar, dish soap, and water, and gets to work.

He really doesn’t mind the cleaning, when he’s able to do it at his own pace. When the house is quiet at night, it’s almost meditative. He’s no philosopher, but there’s something about caring for your own house. This house is his—in everything but the name on the deed—so he doesn’t really mind caring for it. Just like he doesn’t mind caring for Tony.

When he’s done, the stain is gone. There might be the slightest tint of it, but no one would ever notice. Though, there are other stains in the carpet from past parties that still linger. He may have to replace it soon. But the budget can take it. Since Tony handed over the finances, his budget has been quite acceptable.

He dumps out the dirty water, washes off the rag and hangs it to dry, and heads up to his bedroom. Sometimes he sleeps in Tony’s room these days, but not always. Tony is likely asleep already, and Barrett wouldn’t disturb him. He’s a considerate man, after all, and it’s not for a servant to disturb the master of the house.

**Author's Note:**

> I just watched The Servant and like... damn.  
> Hope you enjoyed my small fic :)


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